


Back From Mexico

by shardsofglass (rayoflight)



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:45:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5315615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayoflight/pseuds/shardsofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written in the summer before the new season premiered.  Jenny and Abbie go on an extended break/vacation/artifact seeking expedition in Mexico.  Both Ichabod and Abbie both come to certain long, LONG, denied revelations about the nature of their bond. This was written as part of a longer fic, but it didn't quite belong.  So, I'm posting it as a one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back From Mexico

Jenny and Abbie arrived in Sleepy Hollow from their much overdue month-long excursion together on a Friday afternoon.   Mabie's Tavern, the local bar, was the perfect place to catch Ichabod up on their trip.

Both girls were curly or billowy haired, with nary a tethered nor tied sun-kissed strand to be seen.  Abbie wore a long dress which skimmed her sandaled feet and made her seem even tinier, a beach cover-up she called it, all fuchsia, violet, and lavender blossoms on a deep purple background and a maze of criss-crossed strings, one of which fell carelessly off one glossy-skinned shoulder.

Ichabod could scarcely breathe.  He thought their time apart would help him to get over whatever inappropriate feelings he held for his partner, but the opposite had happened.  

He had missed her terribly.  He had found himself glancing down at the empty space beside him, daydreaming about the light touches she often lay upon his breast.

So seeing her like this, all aglow and relaxed…  Fully encompassing the femininity of her sex, in all her natural beauty... He shuddered from head to toe, his mouth went dry, his cock twitched.  He contracted the muscles in his thighs painfully to retreat his impending erection.  It only worked just enough so he would not visibly embarrass himself.

He was starved for her.

* * *

 

 

Her smile was bright and her amble slow and easy.  Jenny wore a bikini top and a pair of cut-offs accented by a shiny haze of coconut oiled skin, but he barely saw her.  Yes, he acknowledged the rarity of seeing the sister in this state as well, but it was all periphery.  

Abbie was his sole focus.

They spoke of Mexico and Aztec ruins. Of new practices learned and people well-met.  Jenny spoke of her own carnal exploits with amusing abandon and her in-vain attempts to get her sister to sample some of the local flavor.

"Abbie merely relaxed, sipped her drinks and wet her feet in the azure waves.

...That was until a certain reporter showed up."

Jenny regaled Ichabod with a tale of a night of passion, while Abbie shot her warning looks and attempted to divert the conversation.

Jenny simply raised an eyebrow and soldiered on, knowing full-well what she was doing.

Ichabod forced a smile while his hands clenched beneath the table.

“Bartender! Another round, please.”

Ichabod downed three shots of whiskey, before he remembered his company and the drink’s power to loosen the tongue.  He’d had enough to dull his senses, anyway…

Christ, she smelled of whatever strange exotic potion made her sun-darkened skin shimmer in the low bar light, spicy and fruity. It made his mouth water.

Abbie changed the subject upon realizing Ichabod’s distress and asked after his activities.  He told them both of his new employment.

“I bet you were so glad to get away from my sister for awhile.  You seem like a solitary creature, Ichabod.  You were an only child after-all.”

“-I focused on attaining some semblance of a livelihood.” he said, avoiding the question.

“It does not do for a gentleman to rely solely upon a lady’s goodwill.”

Try as he might to avoid doing so, he kept staring at Abbie, her golden hooped earrings, her shiny rouged pout, her untamed hair, her unbound breasts.  God's wounds, she was a goddess.  How could he have not acknowledged this before now?  She was a perfect little bundle of warm strength and feminine beauty, unadorned natural curves, lovely eyes which shone rare amber all the more now for her sun-darkened skin…

“...Earth to Crane! I said, are your classes full?” Jenny said with knowing amusement.

“Yes, thanks to a popular entertainment program, I believe.  Many signed up in order to more fully understand the intricacies of the plots presented.  Apologies, I must excuse myself to retire.  I had a long day and I’m afraid my very soul has been exhausted.”

“Yeah, I think I’m ready to go too.  Long flight, you know.” Jenny said.

“Why don’t you two split the fare?  I think, I heading home with Mr. bartender. He told me his shift is over in fifteen minutes”  she said, daintily waving while he winked at her.

Jenny got up and left Abbie hanging, as she rallied to call after her…

“Check in with a text. He could be a psycho!”  

Jenny nodded with wide - _shoo! big-little sis!_ \- eyes and mouthed, “O-KAY! I WILL!”

Ichabod sat still before her, a deer caught in headlights.  “Uhm...I shall escort you to the line of paid carriages.”

He got up swiftly and helped her from her chair (as if he were courting her).  One arm was extended, the other folded behind his back.

“Oh jeez.” Abbie said and flushed, taking his extended arm.

“There’s no need.  Just because I’m not wearing ‘trousers’ (she used air-quotes) and don’t have a gun on my hip, there’s just really no need…

“-You are breath-takingly beautiful, Abigail.  I apologize for my neglect  in telling you this, but to acknowledge such a thing aloud…’tis a dangerous truth to vocalize, but you are, _you. are_...  In trousers or this floral sheath.  You are exceedingly lovely.  Heart-stoppingly so.”

Abbie stared up at his face in slack-jawed shock.

_“Ichabod.”_

“Come, we must ‘hail you a cab’, as they say.”

**  
**  


* * *

**  
**  


The buzz of the liquor had loosened his tongue.  The tale of her romantic escapade terrified him.   He practically vibrated with a confused eddy of emotions.  Lust, love, jealousy, desperation… The woman at his side stirred all of these things within him.

Abbie looked down at his hand which desperately clasped hers, beside him.  He never took her hand unless they were in peril.   ... _But perhaps, their time apart, her would-be liaison was a form of peril for him_ , she thought.  She had not slept with Calvin, but Jenny had implied that she had.

They had spoken of Ichabod during their vacation/mission together.  Jenny had told her that he was head over heels, butt-crazy in love with her ( _literally butt-crazy_ , Jenny had said, saying that she had _caught him daydreaming about ‘dat ass’_ , at which she’d let out an appalled laugh and punched her sister in the arm).

She thought it merely the natural and fleeting attraction that's develops between two attractive partners. Nothing more. She tried really hard to convince herself of this.

Jenny sighed and rolled her eyes, threw up her arms and exasperatedly said “Whatever.  You’re in denial so deep, you’re finding remnants of Mose’s basket.  British dude loves you to pieces, and you know this.”

“And you love him too, that’s why you’re sad and moping into your colada in freaking paradise, instead of getting some local nookie!”

So, when she bumped into Calvin.  She felt she had something to prove.

And she did enjoy herself… up to a point.  Though there was something missing. A certain, arrogant, wiry, antiquated, long-fingered man was never far from her thoughts.

**  
**  


* * *

**  
**  
  


Abbie straddled Calvin as the the sun set over the beach, kissing him and fiddling with his belt buckle when he stopped her.

“Wait! Wait! Slow down! not that I’m not enjoying your enthusiasm, but I’m wondering where this is coming from?  We have all the time in the world.  I don’t want this to be just a one-off, you okay?

Abbie sighed and sat back, defeated, all the will and determination to chase away the ghost of Crane, abandoned, and unbelievably, she cried in frustration.

“Oh no!  I’m sorry, you can use me if you want.”

Abbie laughed through her tears.  “No.  I won’t.  You’re a good man, but I, I- think I’m in love with someone else.”

“I suspected as much. Been there done that.  It’s the Brit dude that was attached at your hip when I met you, isn’t it.”

“How-”

“-He stared daggers at me the whole time, positioned himself between us, broke my three thousand dollar camera because I looked at you too closely. ...Luckily, the damn thing is insured.  Abbie, that man loves you too.  God knows why you aren’t together, but if you love him and he loves you and you spend all your time together anyway, I think you should try to make it work.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Is he married?”

“Was...she’s dead, now.”

He chuffed. “Then what is the damn problem?”

“Just...We have a huge responsibility; a dangerous job that we take on together. I don’t want romance derailing it.”

He sighed.

“I had a feeling that whole evil in the tunnels thing was a regular thing with you two. Listen.  Love strengthens, -it doesn’t weaken.  Do what you will.”

“If you still want to try to have a forget-me-not shag, I’m here.  I'd rather have more, but I get it.  I’ll give you that good time. Take what I can get for the time being. Your move.”

“No.  I think I’m ready to head back to the hotel.”

With that, and just the thinnest sliver of blood-orange slicing across the horizon, Calvin gathered up her flip-flops and bag and escorted her back to her room.

 

* * *

 

The cab rode on in silence for a time.

“Why did you say that?”

“Say what?”

“That you think I’m beautiful.”  

“Abbie, I don’t merely think it.  It is a fact that your beauty outstrips that of most women on this planet (‘all’ he wanted to say, but knew that would be pushing it with her).  You must be aware of this.”

“I am grateful for the advantages being attractive grants me, but I asked you why you said it. My ego doesn’t need stroking. So why did _you_ say it?”

“There is no denying that you’re a lovely woman and I thought.-”

“Ichabod.”  That got his full attention and he turned to regard her.

_“Why did you say it?”_

“I said it because…  I could scarcely allow another minute, hour, or day to pass without having uttered some semblance of my true regard for you. Abbie, I have missed you terribly.  The empty space beside me nearly swallowed me whole.  I need you.”  He gripped her shoulders and brought his face close to her own, doing his best to impart the weight of what he was saying to her.

“Beyond our calling, beyond all that you’ve done for me, even without those things I would need you at my side.  I can no longer exist in the same world that you occupy and fool myself into believing that you are not a mandatory component in it _for me, personally._  Abbie, I am nothing, but a barren place without you.  You have my heart utterly, _entirely_.”

Abbie gaped at him for moment before she said quietly.  “and you have mine.”

The cabbie slowed his vehicle and cleared his throat. Ichabod blindly groped for crumpled bills and gave them to him.

“I take it you’re getting out here, as well?” the cabbie said into the rear-view mirror.

Abbie merely nodded, smiled at the grinning cabbie, and exited the vehicle.

 

* * *

**  
**  


It was difficult but they somehow managed to get the door open while kissing and tugging on each other’s clothing.

This was sloppy and urgent.  Pure carnal need, pent-up for so long, and now released.

“I have been so utterly foolish - _kiss-kiss_ \- to have allowed my stubborn pride to allow another man the opportunity to woo you away from me. Allow me to show you how much of a mistake that would be.

He lifted her against him and she hitched her thighs over his narrow hips.  Ichabod spread his nimble fingers just beneath the curve of each ass-cheek moved his adept fingers over her sex from behind, eventually shoving aside the scrap of fabric.

Abbie tore her lips away from his so she could breathe.

“Shall I finish you with my fingers, tongue, or prick?” he husked against her panting mouth.

“If I have to choose, _I want your cock_ , Ichabod.”

“First…”  he replied. “Good, I haven’t the damn patience anymore-”

He kissed her filthy mouth, groaned low in his throat as he took himself in hand and without preamble impaled her upon him.

She gasped at the heft of him, stretching and filling her.   

 “...oh my fuck.” 

“Oh my word, -your heavenly! Inside you is heaven, my love.”  he whispered against her cheek.

He braced her against a wall and fucked her, in earnest, thoroughly, sloppily, and without finesse.  It was a desperate collision of flesh, a burst dam of feeling.  

He kissed her exposed shoulder.  She held on tight as they settled into a quick desperate rhythm.

Abbie’s toes curled with every flex, hitch, and pump of his rather sinewy hips.  He surprised her with his confident smooth undulations, his mindfulness of chasing her pleasure even in this desperate state.  He tilted her so his long agile fingers of could find her pleasure between them.

He played her with just the right measure of dip, swerve, and press, heightening the overwhelming sense of him being everywhere, --kissing her neck, watching her face through glazed, half-closed eyes, his hands and cock thoroughly working her over.

She shouted as her climax washed over her with sudden intensity that had her arching her back and pulling Crane’s hair painfully, for some tether…. As he cursed, pulled his hand away from her sex and increased the pace and strain of his own thrusts, and found his own release swiftly after her own.

They both slid to the floor, completely spent, a messy sticky heap of entangled limbs.

Later, after shedding the rest of their clothes, after a pause for clean-up and recovery, after a few more rounds of sloppy sex and declarations, both intimately profound and profane…

They lay together in bed, bound by this impossible bond, feeling both blessed and idiotic beyond measure for not having pursued this sooner.

**Author's Note:**

> The fic this was supposed to be a part of is Bitches' Brew, which I've had some writer's block for, unfortunately. I did manage to get some writing done for it today, but sadly the show isn't providing as much inspiration as I had hoped it would by now.


End file.
